Page 45 of To Wager with Love

Harriet stared after him, the stupid smile still pasted to her face.

“Miss Stanhope, I’m hardly surprised by your looking like the cat that got the canary. I must congratulate you on a job well done.”

Harriet turned, her heart plummeting as she found herself eye to eye with Mrs Tate, the glamorous widow who’d been Jasper’s most recent paramour.

“I can’t think what you mean, and I don’t believe we’ve been introduced, madam,” Harriet replied, the words crackling with all the ice she could muster though her cheeks were aflame, for she knew exactly what the wretched woman was implying.

“Well, if I’d known he’d fall for such an obvious tactic, I might have tried it myself,” the lady said, her catlike green eyes glittering with malice.

“Oh, but you need a spotless reputation in order to be ruined, Mrs Tate,” Harriet flung back, a little startled by her own audacity, but her temper had been lit and she was damned if she’d allow the woman to know just how inadequate she made her feel. “I’m afraid, in your case, that ship sailed a long, long, time ago.”

To her irritation, Mrs Tate just laughed, a deep, rich sound that only made Harriet feel increasingly gauche.

“Touché, Miss Stanhope. Well, I really did mean it as a compliment you know. What a coup, for….” Mrs Tate gave Harriet a gesture that took her in from head to toe. “Someone like you,” she said in wonder, shaking her head as she looked Harriet over with a rather pained expression.

In that moment, Harriet was all too aware of how she looked next to this woman. Her plain muslin gown was last season’s, as she’d dressed in too much of a hurry and had taken little note of what she’d picked out. It was of the best quality, but simple and dreadfully immature when set against Mrs Tate’s stylish ensemble in midnight blue. She looked ravishing, as well she knew.

Harriet’s breath caught as Mrs Tate leaned in and she was assailed with the scent of ambergris. “I’ll get him back, you know,” she said, in a sultry undertone. “He’ll marry you for his heir, but once that’s done… he’ll come back to me. They always do.”

She drew back and winked at Harriet, who felt sick, hot and cold and nauseated all at once. There was the defiant urge inside of her to tell Mrs Tate she didn’t want Jasper and she was welcome to him, but it would be too obviously a lie, and a wretched thing to say. If Jasper heard her say such a thing it would hurt him, no matter his true feelings, and she knew too vividly what that felt like to speak without thought of the consequences.

“Harriet.”

She turned then as Jasper approached. There was fury in his eyes as he looked at Mrs Tate, and Harriet felt just a little bit better.

“Is everything all right, darling?” he asked, sliding a possessive arm about her waist.

Harriet looked up at him. “Quite all right, thank you, Jasper. Mrs Tate here was just explaining how you’re only marrying me because you must, because you need an heir. She was telling me how you’d be back in her bed the moment that had been accomplished.”

Harriet turned and gave Mrs Tate the sweetest of smiles, experiencing a momentary surge of triumph at the panic in the woman’s eyes, before turning on her heel and walking away.

***

“You bloody bitch.”

Mrs Tate stiffened, but put up her chin. “It’s nothing but the truth. The girl may as well know it. Cruel of you to lead her on, you know, darling.” Her expression changed, a sly look he knew all too well creeping into her expression as she moved closer and slid a hand down his chest. “We were so good together. Don’t you remember how good?” she purred.

Jasper slapped her hand away in disgust and took a step back.

“You’re a fool, Jenny,” he said, wondering what in the name of everything holy he’d been doing toying with her at all. He must have been bloody desperate. “I’m in love with her. I’ve always loved her. It’s me that trapped her into marriage, if you must know, and if you so much as speak her name, I’ll make sure no one ever wants to dally with you ever again. There will be no more wealthy protectors, not once I’m done.”

She glared at him, her eyes furious though her complexion was leaching colour.

“I treated you well,” he said, beside himself with the unfairness of it. “You did handsomely out of me, but that’s not enough, is it? You wanted my heart on a platter like every other poor fool you’ve ensnared. Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you, but interfere in my life again, and I’ll make you regret it. Are we clear?”

Mrs Tate gave a taut nod, and Jasper turned, hurrying out of the shop and after Harriet. He looked up, irritated to see the sky was growing dark as the rain clouds gathered overhead. A fine drizzle began, swirling in the cooling air and clinging to his hair and clothes as he set off in search of Harriet.

It took him the best part of an hour to find her and, when he did, his heart sank. She was huddled on a bench in a quiet corner of the Grove. It was a small wooded area, surrounded by heathland on Mount Scion and a lovely place to stroll on a sunny day. With the weather worsening by the moment, the area was deserted, and Harriet looked small, alone, and deeply unhappy. Not to mention wet. The tree canopy overhead had saved her from the worst of the weather, but her clothes were damp already and the rain was falling harder now.

Jasper cursed Mrs Tate, and then himself for ever having had anything to do with her. He’d been winning Harriet over, he’d felt certain of it, but now….

“Harry,” he said, approaching her as he might a skittish horse, afraid she’d bolt at the least provocation. “Harry,” he said again, his heart clenching as she didn’t answer him, but just stared straight ahead.

“It will always be like this, Jasper,” she said, her voice expressionless. “No matter how you feel now, whether or not I believe you are in love with me, there will always be women like Mrs Tate.”

“N-No, Harriet, I wouldn’t….”

She lifted a hand, silencing him. “Even if that’s true, I will always wonder.” She looked up at him and he could see she’d been crying, her eyes wider than ever and reddened behind her spectacles. “You’re handsome and rich and powerful, and beautiful women will always put themselves in your path. Far more beautiful than me. The kind of women who can be witty and amusing and please you in the bedroom. Can you honestly tell me you’ll never be tempted, in five years, in ten… when whatever novelty there is in having such an odd bookworm for your wife has worn off?”